


Je t'aime (A FrUs Oneshot)

by Redreddraws7



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Freeform, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, One-Sided America/England (Hetalia), One-Sided Relationship, Poor America (Hetalia), Poor France (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26775328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redreddraws7/pseuds/Redreddraws7
Summary: France had had his heartbroken by England. When America comforts him and becomes his friend, France falls in love with America, yet America isn't in love with him.
Relationships: America/France (Hetalia)
Kudos: 11





	Je t'aime (A FrUs Oneshot)

**Author's Note:**

> Have you realized how underrated FrUs is in the english part of the fandom? I've only found five, FIVE ENGLISH TRANSLATED DJS. So to add on to the France x America tag, I will be posting this oneshot I made in one day for my online sister on this site.
> 
> I don't write a lot of angst, so sorry if it isn't all the angsty.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

It was like a fairy tail. France usually thought nowadays. He met someone incredibly handsome and he fell in love in an instant. Not for their looks but for their personality. 

This love that he had for this person was way too big. He adored them, cherished them, loved them. But...who was them?

America. Or Alfred F. Jones.

France could remember the day he fell in love. It was after a meeting. His lover at the time England, or Arthur Kirkland pulled him aside. He said something that left Francis in tears.

_"I'm breaking up with you. I felt pity that you even somewhat liked me. Don't try to get back together with me frog. Goodbye." Arthur turned around and left, not looking back at the sobbing form of Francis._

He had left France there. In tears. He didn't hear what he just heard right? Did Arthur truly not love him enough? Did he just really pretend to be in love with him for months? His heart shattered at the thought and more tears fell from his eyes. That's when... _he_ came.

_"France? Dude? Are you okay?" The American asked France with concern lacing his gaze._

_France quickly wiped his tears to the best of his ability and got up off the floor, dusting his suit._

_"Non non I'm fine!" America furrowed his eyebrows._

_"Dude don't lie to me. I know you've been crying. It was Arthur wasn't it?"_  
_France was shocked._

_"How did you-" France started but was interrupted by America._

_"The damn limey tried to cheat on you with me. He said something along the lines of 'blah blah blah, America I've always loved you more than that frog blah blah let me fuck you blah blah I'll break up with him for you." America said frowning the whole time._

_France was quite angry. Somewhat at America and mostly at Britan._

_'A relationship is built on trust yet Arthur had been breaking mine. And he runs to America of all people? Sure it's not America's fault that he's attractive-' He quickly shot his thoughts down._

_'Did I just call America attractive in my own mind?'_

_"Anyways- wait are you okay?" America asked. France realized he had been silently crying for the past minute and a half. He sighed and started wiping his tears._

_"Non...I'm not fine..." France gasped when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around him. France felt..safe and secure in these arms, while Arthur's held some sort of venom he wasn't aware of at the time._

_"It's okay dude. You don't need to think about the limey anymore. I'll be your best friend from now on!"_

_And that's when their friendship had started. And that's when France's disease had started to bloom._

...

It had been a relatively good day hanging out with Alfred. He had gone into his house when he started to cough violently. Looking into his palm he gasped in horror at what he saw.

A single red rose petal, the tips starting into a blue and blood splotches. Was he...in love with Alfred? America? The America? The one famous for not really thinking about people that way?

Francis slid down his door crestfallen. He was going to do die soon. He just knew it. More petals would fall and soon more blood would too. Until the thorns and roses in his lungs suffocated him into a lonely death.

Francis sighed and thread his fingers into his hair. He still wanted to be near Alfred. He still wanted to be able to hold him in his arms and kiss his pink lips. 

France suddenly sneezed a coughed up another rose petal fell into his hand. Even thinking about him made him sick.

But he knew he would never reciprocate his feelings. France sighed again and got up off the floor, dusting off his pants and jacket. 

Suddenly feeling determined France threw away the petals. If he was going to die, he would die with the memories of America. And that was final.

...

Day by day, week by week, and month by month, France grew sicker. And his love for Alfred grew in size. More blood and rose petals fell from his mouth and the thorns in his lungs grew in size and mass. The petals started turning blue and bluer.

Yet, France still loved America. 

He would hang out with the younger as much as he could, wanting to cherish every single smile he gave France, and every side hug made France feel like he was on cloud 9.

Whenever he coughed, he would hide the petals in his pocket and when he came home he would throws them in the two trashcans he had in his kitchen.

Alfred started getting more concerned for his well being. Asking if he was okay or not. France would always assure him he was fine and America seemed to believe it, giving him a small smile that sent his heart fluttering.

France felt himself feel weaker. Running for more than a minute made his breathing short and wispy, and he couldn't talk for a long time before running out of breath.

It was the effect of having thorns and roses in your lungs. But Francis was okay with it. He was friends with Alfred. Best friends with him. He loved the sometimes ditzy blonde. And if he was going to suffer from this love then he would.

...

It was that day he had been awaiting.  
The day...where the roses would fill his lungs and the thorns would stab him, leaving him to choke on his own blood and petals. The petals he now coughed were completely blue, scattered around the house.

He was going to die today. He just knew it. France contacted America and asked him to come over quickly. America was really worried so he said he would be over in an hour.

France hacked again, many blue petals and a couple of thorns adorned with blood fell onto the floor. He heard the door quickly open and shut as he heard rapid footsteps. His breathing became labored and raspy at the sound of Alfred's footsteps.

Alfred busted open the room door and gasped in shock and horror. The room was covered in rose petals. Some red, some turning into blue, and some completely blue petals. He heard France start hacking and the petals and thorns fell onto the ground.

He quickly ran up to France's bedside, tears threatening to fall from his blue eyes. France had fell in love with those sky blue eyes. France weakly rested his cold hand on Alfred's cheek, the tears falling rapidly.

"A-Alfred....I need to telk you something..." France said before ge was shushed by America's watery voice.

"N-no...please save your breath...please..." America sobbed, France wiping away some of the tears.

"Alfred...je t'aime" France said before the roses suffocated him, and the thorns pierced his lungs. The petals on the floor turned a dark blue and France stopped breathing.

"No...no no no....FRANCIS!"

...

The funeral had ended a fee minutes ago, a select few staying behind. Italy and Germany had stayed behind so Italy could mourn. South Italy had stayed with his brother. Japan and Hungary were conversing about something. Belgium and Seychelles had stayed behind to comfort a weeping Monaco.

Canada had been attached to his brother's arm the entire time, not saying a thing just looking lost.

America had been holding onto his brother as well, him, Monaco, Seychelles, Italy, and his brother, and him taking France's death the hardest. America began to cough and looked into his hand.

A single rose petal. That was blue the tips and a few blood splotches.

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn't understand the ending here's a bit of lore or something.
> 
> You see, America buried his feeling for France for a long time while they were friends. He didn't want to get Hanahaki, so he made himself stop loving France, yet France was willing to let himself die for America. 
> 
> At the funeral, America's feelings for France finally broke free of they're restraint, and so he coughed up a blue and red rose petal.
> 
> Yes I know that Hanahaki ends when the victim dies but fuck that, I wanna make this more angsty.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and consider checking out other works! :D


End file.
